


Penumbra

by LBibliophile



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bingo Fill, Chi Blocking, Collars, Gen, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Whumptober 2020, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko Angst, Zuko does not escape on the Day of Black Sun, and the gaang will (hopefully) show up in a few chapters, but it does get better, but very slowly, if still angsty, of the chi-suppression variety, prologue-only, so i'm leaving this as a oneshot for now, the rest of the fic is coming, toph at least is important
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26855596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LBibliophile/pseuds/LBibliophile
Summary: Zuko's luck has always made him his own worst enemy. When the eclipse ends too early, he redirects his father's lightning in a different direction, and all his half-formed plans fall apart.For Whumptober 2020:Day 2: CollarsDay 5: Failed escape
Relationships: Ozai & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 27
Kudos: 380
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Penumbra

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Towards the Sun](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252807) by [MuffinLance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuffinLance/pseuds/MuffinLance). 
  * Inspired by [Fractures](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20063656) by [EvieNyx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvieNyx/pseuds/EvieNyx). 



> I've been reading various imprisoned pre-Fire Lord Zuko fics, and have come up with a couple of headcanons I wanted to try and weave together. I'm still working on the structure of some of the later chapters, but 'enjoy' the prologue in the meantime.

“… I'm going to join the Avatar and I'm going to help him defeat you!”

His words echo around the silent bunker, audience frozen in a stunned tableau.

For once, he feels powerful. All the words and emotions that have been festering inside for years are now acknowledged and out he the open; he knows his path, and it is one that _he_ chooses. He feels the release like a warmth spreading from his core.

Too late, he realises his mistake; the warmth is real. The eclipse is over.

Then his father is moving, face twisting in anger, sparks gathering as he circles his arms. A lance of white fire spears towards him, and there is no time to think. He reaches out, catching the energy on two fingers and drawing it _in, down, up —_ the next step is ‘out’, but where to? His uncle taught him to redirect lightning harmlessly into clear sky, but they are underground, not even a window. A dark voice suggests that he return it back along the same path, see how his _father_ deals with a face-full of — _out!_

His body completes the drilled sequence, lightning leaping from his upraised arm.

There is a deafening _boom_ , and rock and dust cascades around him. Something hard hits his temple, and everything goes dark.

* * *

Zuko is lying on something hard – stone, the floor? – feeling decidedly battered and dizzy. There is a hand cradling the left side of his face; his mother’s calming perfume wraps around him and he leans into the pressure, faintly feeling the brush of a thumb tracing the edge of his scar. 

“Back with us now, Prince Zuko?” He flinches away – the voice is _wrongwrong_ , Father not Mother - but the hand only moves to tangle fingers in his hair, tugging sharply in warning. He opens his eyes to the familiar nightmare of his father leaning over him.

“I see that my worthless brother has managed to drill at least some level of competence through your thick skull, yet once again you prove to be your own worst enemy. However, just in case you thought to try another of his little tricks…”

The hand in his hair yanks him forward, the rough movement making his head spin and stomach churn. A cool band circles around his neck, closing with an ominously final _click_. His hands fly up to clutch the metal – collar, it’s a collar. Which means… with effort, he focuses his eyes on the matching shackles clasped around each of his wrists, finally noticing the same chill touch on his ankles.

“What-?”

“You don’t really think I wouldn’t have taken precautions, do you?”

His father is still speaking, his voice distant as though coming from a deep tunnel, yet every word sounds sharp and icy clear.

“This _is_ our family we are talking about.”

He can feel his throat against the metal, the flutter of each gasping breath, his heartbeat pulsing a rapid counterpoint.

“If you had been sincere in your return I would have found some use for you. But I was hardly going to allow a traitor to just walk around the palace.”

Focus. He needs to know just what these bands are. And he does know, somewhere…

“My dearest brother’s accommodations should have been warning enough of that.”

The sick chill in his core is all the clue he needs. Chi-suppression cuffs. The alloy a well-guarded secret, used only on the most powerful of firebending prisoners.

“Of course, I will have to have a _conversation_ with Azula to determine her role in this. I shall be very disappointed if you have managed to corrupt her as well. After all my efforts…”

But no one else knows Uncle’s breath of fire. Which means that this collar was created specially… for _him…_

“But enough of them, _you_ are the problem here. You have always been slow to learn, and I see now that my previous lesson was insufficient.”

He’d come here today planning to renounce his father and his ideals, declare that he stood in opposition. Yet some small part of him had still hoped that his father cared. Felt that it _was_ a betrayal, however justified…

“This time, I will just have to keep repeating the message until it _sinks in._ ”

He shivers, pinned in place by the cold light in his father’s eyes, unable to look away. He remembers the pain of the burn, the months it took to heal; he _really_ doesn’t want to think about where this is going.

Then the bunker door opens and his father stands, breaking the tense bond. He nods at the messenger’s quiet words, then sends them off with a message of his own and turns back to look down at the son sprawled on the floor.

“That shall have to wait, however, it appears that I have a failed invasion force to dispose of. In the meantime, I suggest you contemplate all the ways you have disappointed me. When we next talk, I will expect a full account, and shall address each. And. Every. One.”

Rough hands grab his arms, breaking him out of his frozen stupor. He thrashes, twisting and struggling to get free. He doesn’t have his bending, but that shouldn’t matter; he has fought without it before. He is dizzy and bruised, but that shouldn’t matter; he has fought concussed before.

But the fire in his core is smothered, guttering, leaving his limbs weak and uncoordinated. And the iron will that has pushed him through so many past trials is crumbling and unmoored. Aching in his mind-heart-body-spirit it is all he can do to keep his legs under him as the guards drag him though the underground corridors. When they stop and toss him into a cell, the clang of the door closing sounds like his uncle’s disappointment.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: So this fic has received far more attention than I expected (although given the fics I've linked it to, maybe I should have). I _am_ working on the next chapters, but it's slow going, particularly as it seems to be developing layers the more I think it through. If you want regular updates, this fic is not for you, but every kudos and comment gives me that bit more motivation to get the next part out.
> 
> Edit 2 (31/1/2021): You may have noticed that this fic has changed from chapter 1 to a completed oneshot. I'm still working on the later chapters, but it's taking much more planning and worldbuilding than I'm used to (why are there so many characters to keep track of?). This, combined with my usually erratic writing progress, means that I feel it is fairer to label the fic like this for the probably-months until I can get the next part out.


End file.
